Traffic
by egyptianmyth
Summary: Sara decides to take that leave of absence…in the middle of Colorado….and has some very strange encounters with the locals on a very cold day.


Title: Traffic Summary: Sara decides to take that leave of absence.in the middle of Colorado..and has some very strange encounters with the locals on a very cold day. I know nothing about Colorado other than the fact that it's cold there, so if I screw up with the setting, please don't kill me. Rating: PG-13 for the swearing Spoilers: None Disclaimer: Though I own the dream that inspired the story, along with Chicago squirrel man and the crazy grocery lady, I do not own CSI or anything in conjunction to it. That's all CBS.  
  
The day got stranger. The day got colder. The log cabin inn was a quarter mile away, and a snowstorm was rolling in from the east. But still Sara drove, unwilling to stop driving, and unwire that the storm was headed her way. The banks of the road were already covered with roughly 2 ½ inch piles already, but the roads had been safely shoveled and cleared, covered with gritty salt to melt the ice. Sarah was driving from a vengeance. In truth, she was driving--- another way of running away, just like she had been doing for at least the past month. She had run away from Grissom, without confronting the way that she felt, ran away from Nevada and CSI because she was too embarrassed, too stubborn, and too jackassed to stay. And now, she was driving away from the empty, quite, desolate town in Colorado in her Taho, mad at herself and in a fit. She had thought about forgiving Gil, whom she always psychologically pinned all of her problems onto, that morning, thought about going back, thought about how stupid she was really being. And then, she became mad at herself. Mad at herself for finding a logical answer to her griping---an answer that in turn pegged the blame upon herself and not on Grissom--- and stomped out of her hotel room and into her Taho in a steaming fit, driving the car with an equal rage. She shoved through gears, ground down pedals, hearing the grinding purr of an engine in weather far too cold for it's good. She noticed that large amounts of snow were not so slowly coming down, and that a shoving wind was coming in from the east, but what she did not notice, was the fact that that wind was shoving a storm in as well. Lost in her thoughts, she incoherently noticed a black, dread-locked woman, carrying paper bags full of what appeared to be groceries crossing the street at a point that she was very rapidly coming up upon. Sara kept driving, still noticing but not comprehending, the signs of the Taho's approach lost to the woman in the harsh gusting of the wind. Neither party did actually comprehend each other until they were nearly upon each other. The woman gasped, a deer caught in the headlights, Sarah too gasped, swerving at the exact moment when a collision between the two became unavoidable, and slammed, headstrong into the anonymous woman carrying the grocery bags. The woman was plowed up and over the bumper of Sarah's car, and onto the hood, crashing into and smashing her windshield at the point of her impact. At that point Sarah had stopped the car, the hood rumpled from the crash and steam rising from the bent sides. Sara's hands were flopped over the steering wheel, and she gasped in galloping breaths in utter shock and disorientation for at least a quarter of a minute, staring at the seemingly unconscious woman on the hood of her car, her back facing Sara. She had no idea were she was, who this woman was, or what she was doing out in the middle of no were carrying grocery bags on a bitterly cold day, but she sure as hell was on her windshield. Suddenly, the woman flopped around to meet Sara in the eye, and screamed at her in rage, beating at what was left of the shattered windshield savagely, baring the teeth within her bloodied mouth. Sarah screamed, nearly jumped out of her skin, and then fumbled to get out of the car. "Ma'am, are you all right? Ma'am I'm so sorry! Let me help you!" She ran up to the woman, and tried to help her off the hood of her car, really not sure what to do. Instead, the woman batted her away. "YOU! I HATE YOU! LOOK WHAT YOU DID! YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?! YOU THINK THIIS IS FUNNY YOU SICK BITCH?!" She spat. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! MY GODDAMED LAWERS ARE GOING TO HEAR ABOUT THIS! YOU PEOPLE IN YOUR GODAMED SUVS RUN AROUND LIKE YOU'RE SO F-ING SPECIAL, THEN YOU GO AHEAD AND RUN ME OVER LIKE A DOG!!! A DOG!!!" "Ma'am! I'm sorry" Sarah stuttered. "Here, let me help you. Let me help you off of there." "HELP?! You can't Goddamn HELP ME you goddamed RAN ME OVER! I a'nt getting no HELP FROM YOU!" The woman screamed as she proceeded to climb off the hood quite sufficiently by herself. She proceeded to dust the shards of glass off of her like she had simply fallen in the dirt, and spit out a knocked out tooth into the snow. Sarah stood flabbergasted, shocked enough that she had run into the woman, shocked more than she ever had been that this woman was screaming at her, let along standing and yelling at her. "See?" The woman said when she finished dusting herself off. "I didn't need your goddamed help anyway." "Ma'am, I'm so sorry. Are you all right? Let me drive you to the hospital?"  
  
"Last thing I need you to do is ask me if I'm fucking all right, lady, let alone ride in that DEATH MACHINE of yours!!" Sara's head cocked back, not quite sure how to react to that. "You gots a card?" The woman asked, as she turned around to spit out another tooth, and then to just plain spit. "Excuse me ma'am?" Sara asked "A card? You know, one of those fancy BUISNESS CARD all you EMPLOYED folks toting around nowadays. If you be driving one a those fancy SUV's an shit, you got's to have a card!" Sara dug in her coat pocket, pulled out her business card, and gave it to the woman. "GOOD!" the woman spat. "Cause here's mine!!" She shoved one in Sara's face. Sara cautiously took it. The woman shoved her face up in Sarah's. "Didn't think I HAD ONE, DID YOU?" Roared the woman. Sarah blinked. "I really had no opinion on weather or not you had a business card, ma'am..." "Humph!" snorted the woman. She then stomped over to her groceries, strewn and smashed over to the side of the SUV. The woman attempted to gather what was left of them, and then cocked her head at Sara as she tried to stuff them in a torn grocery bag. "Look at these groceries!! I had these DOUBLE BAGGED, TOO!!" The woman gathered up her grocery bag. "You hold onto that card, missy. You'll be hearing from my lawyer. You think you damned drivers can GET AWAY WITH ANYTHING!" She said as she began to walk away, still leaving Sara standing there shocked. "He's a damned good lawyer, too! Best dammed lawyer in this grand state of Mississippi!" She yelled half way down the road. "But this is Colorado..." Sara muttered. "LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO MY DAMNED GROCERIES!!!!!!" The woman roared as she continued to walk down the road, apparently totally unfazed by the fact that she had just been hit buy a car. Sara sighed, knowing there was no way she was going to be able to stop the woman now, and plopped down by the passenger side door of the Taho. Without thinking, she dragged out her cell-phone and called Grissom. No answer. So, she proceeded to call the police, which to any other normal person would have been the choice for her first call. But, just her luck, the phone's battery went dead in the middle o f the second ring. And so, alone, defeated, and psychologically scarred for life, Sara proceeded to throw her phone on the ground, and then to get up, stomp it until its wires were poking out of the bottom holes, and then hurl it at a nearby tree. When she was done taking out her rage on her cell phone, Sara turned around, and was greeted by a fluffy-tailed squirrel who was sitting were she just was, holding an acorn. And then, to the Sara's compete and utter horror, coupled with what she swore was the fumes from the steaming hood of her car, the squirrel looked right at her, opened its furry little mouth and said, with a distinctly Chicago accent, "Were the hell do you think you get off runnin' that nice lady over with your car?!"  
  
Just then: "Good afternoon Las Vegas, it's 6:00 pm, and that means it's time for strip traffic! John, what've you got for us?" 


End file.
